


on tiptoe

by fancyfanstuff



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Ballet, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hip Hop, mainly fluff tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 15:15:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20623145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fancyfanstuff/pseuds/fancyfanstuff
Summary: Nobody thought it would last.They were too different, opposites almost, two worlds colliding. They had nothing in common, nothing except for an inclination towards dancing. Even there, they clashed, chose styles that were considered to be the furthest ends of the spectrum, as far apart as possible. Melody versus rhythm, grace versus vibe, Vivaldi versus New Wave.And yet Regina Mills stilled that day she saw Emma practice.The Dance AU.





	on tiptoe

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, since @searchingapples on Tumblr wished for more feminine!Emma stories, I thought, why not make a bad pun with Emma's name and give her what she asked for? Which is how this came to be. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Nobody thought it would last.  
  
They were too different, opposites almost, two worlds colliding. They had nothing in common, nothing except for an inclination towards dancing. Even there, they clashed, chose styles that were considered to be the furthest ends of the spectrum, as far apart as possible. Melody versus rhythm, grace versus vibe, Vivaldi versus New Wave.  
  
And yet Regina Mills stilled that day she saw Emma practice. "The Swan Girl," that's what they called her, due to an old incident when Emma had claimed she would one day dance Swanlake. She was a loner, a dreamer, a fighter, coming to the dance school during every free minute she could spare, tiptoeing through her pliés and jetés until her legs quivered and her feet bled. Her pointed shoes barely held together, they were second-hand and fit poorly, her leotard retaining a dirty white no matter how often it was washed, but Regina didn't notice anything of it that first time.  
  
Of course, she had seen Swan before, back when they had both been kids and Cora had forced Regina to attend ballet class. She had hated it, hated the scrawny blonde girl too, with her too big eyes shining in awe as the teacher went through a series of simple positions.  
  
"Bootlicker," she had called Emma under her breath the second and last time she'd gone to the course. The girl had pretended not to hear, but Regina had seen the shiver running down her narrow back, the clench of her jaw as she'd averted her eyes. Regina had visited the hip hop class ever since, unbeknownst to Cora of course, sneaking loose shirts and ripped jeans into her cinch bag.  
  
Emma wasn't as scrawny anymore. Still slim, yes, her frame narrow in a way that distantly reminded of the admiring child, but years and years of practice had steeled her muscles, made her body lithe and lissom. She held herself with poise now, her back no longer slumping as if she wished to disappear, but straight and strong, exuding an air of confidence that Regina found herself so intrigued with that she missed a beat.  
  
Regina Mills never missed a beat. Ruby behind her yelped in surprise, Kathryn stumbled into her side, Mila stopped dancing altogether and gaped at the shorter brunette. Regina didn't notice any of the commotion, only snapped out of her rapture when Zelena pinched her arm.  
  
"And what was that for?" She asked, her voice lacking the usual bite as she craned her neck towards the small window in the door once more, missing the stunned glances her friends exchanged.  
  
"I don't think she is actually aware that she's being a total creep," Ruby whispered a week later, sipping from her water bottle as she watched Regina lingering around the door again.  
  
"It's not like she's actually doing anything," Mila objected, "besides, I can understand what she sees in the Swan girl. That body is certainly something..."  
  
Zelena rolled her eyes. "Oh my god. _That_ is what I call creep behaviour."  
  
"I just mean," Ruby interrupted before Mila could retaliate, "There is nothing hindering her from actually talking to Swan?"  
  
Alas, apparently there was. Regina blamed the bootlicker incident, which had taken to haunting her at night and during the day, her own hateful little voice ringing in her ears. Or maybe it was just plain diffidence, a fear of being rejected, of seeing clear green eyes turn cold.  
  
"You," and in Regina's head Emma's tone was derisive and mocking, "Who are you even?"  
  
Regina knew she was being ridiculous of course, there was no way Emma wouldn't have heard of the Mills spawn, whose mother had made a fuss about extensive donations a few years back, when she had discovered that her daughter did by no means attend ballet class like she was supposed to. Regina was probably the laughing stock in Emma's course, if they didn't hate her that was, for the sudden dramatical cut in ballet funds.  
  
So Regina stuck to watching from afar, admiring the grace and power in Emma's motions, half-regretting not having stayed in her class after all, if only for the sake of a chance to get to know Emma better.  
  
She knew the blonde was an orphan, remembered as much from before. Maybe that was why Emma could pour so much painful passion into her dancing, lay her undivided focus on perfecting her positions. Maybe that was why Emma was crying in the changing rooms that one Friday when Regina had almost given up on catching one more glimpse of her before the weekend.  
  
She hesitated at the door frame when she saw that familiar lean form hunched over a sink, choked sobs escaping from between her hands. The blond hair that Regina only knew in strict buns and the occasional loose curl in Emma's nape flowed freely down her back now, a golden waterfall that reached almost down to her waist.  
  
Regina cleared her throat, burrowed her hands in her pocket to fish out a tissue. Emma swirled around, fingers still pressed over her mouth, her eyes wide and impossibly green through the tears. Regina waved the tissue a bit sheepishly.  
  
"Let me guess, toilet paper is out?"  
  
She wanted to slap herself as soon as the words had fallen from her lips. What a stupid thing to say. She swallowed.  
  
"I shouldn't have disturbed you," she apologized quickly, when all Emma had done after a few seconds was blink, "I, uh, can leave you alone if you want."  
  
Emma blinked once more, then blurted out a "no" when Regina moved to turn away. Her voice was thick with tears, yet there was a pleasant quality to it, a certain warmth. Involuntarily, Regina smiled, placed a timid hand on Emma's back.  
  
"I'm Regina. Do you... do you need help with anything?"  
  
Emma's hands fell away to reveal thin lips lifted in return. "I'm Emma and those tissues are a real lifesaver."  
  
They both knew Emma wasn't talking about the tissues.  
  
The slowly building friendship between the Swan princess and the hip hop queen was considered a phenomenon at the dance school. It wasn't that dancers didn't usually interact with other groups. Not only. Neither was it exclusively the fact that a Mills, a respected and positively regal family in every way, was suddenly hanging out with a loner, a poor girl, an orphan at that. It weren't the mixed style lessons that sometimes took place in the changing rooms now, nor the doting expression both Emma and Regina adopted whenever the other was close, nor the pure aethetical value of seeing the tall blonde girl swinging a casual arm around her darker, curly-haired friend. It was probably, Ruby pondered one day, watching the couple from afar, a mixture of all these points and something more, some invisible ingredient to their relationship that made the two of them glow with unprecedented glory. Maybe it was love.  
  
But it wasn't likely to last. Everyone thought so.  
  
Emma kissed Regina first. It caught Regina by surprise, more so than she would have thought, given that she spent most of her waking hours dreaming of how Emma's lips would feel like, what she would taste like, her tongue moving against Regina's, what kind of sounds she would make when Regina deepened the kiss, guiding her towards a wall maybe, or raking her fingers through the wavy hair that Emma wore down more often now that she'd learned how much Regina liked it that way.  
  
Instead, Emma took the initiative, one day when Regina arrived early for her lesson and found Emma already engrossed in her routine, stretching to the soft tunes of Tchaikovsky. She was so achingly beautiful, humming to herself as she bowed over her leg on the rack, and Regina set down her bag noiselessly to watch her. Although Emma had her eyes closed, she seemed to sense Regina's presence, for she smiled.  
  
"Come over here."  
  
"Bossy," Regina grinned but crossed the room quickly until she stood right behind Emma, breathing in the blonde's flowery scent. It made her head swim, her fingers itch with the urge to touch Emma, to run her hands over the pronounced vertebrae, to count them one after one.  
  
She bit her lip instead. "Hi."  
  
Emma's back uncoiled from its bent position. She leaned slightly back against Regina, her heel still hooked behind the rack.  
  
"You're awfully early," she murmured, an amused lilt to the words. Regina flushed, glad that Emma's eyes were still closed. She was close enough to press a kiss to her friend's temple, if she just dared to move instead of humming non-committaly and holding her breath. And then, suddenly, Emma broke into laughter, her slender body shaking against Regina.  
  
"We are both so very stupid sometimes," she said, her eyes fluttering open as she turned her head to look at Regina. "So very very stupid."  
  
And before Regina could protest, Emma's lips were on hers, warm and soft and far more demanding than Regina would have expected from a ballet dancer.  
  
Apart from that, reality pretty much lived up to her fantasies.  
  
The gossip mill ran wild for little more than one week, one week during which Emma and Regina indulged their friends by hiding their relationship sufficiently enough to make Ruby squeal in delight about being the first one who found out eventually.  
  
"I knew there was a new shine to you, Kathryn just didn't want to believe it."  
  
So Regina faithfully held Emma's hand after practice the next day, not even bothering to pretend it was just for show. Not when Emma's thumb was rubbing circles against her palm and Regina's fingers smelled like Emma's lotion even after showering.  
  
Cora found out eventually. Regina's heart dropped the moment her mother addressed the topic of "your little lady friend," but it turned out to be just an invitation for dinner. Regina was on edge and Emma was on edge too, but she smiled at her girlfriend when she entered Mills mansion in a new dress that had probably cost more than she spent on food for one month. Regina took a deep breath and smiled back, and then Emma curtsied and Cora's criticizing look lost some of its sharpness.  
  
So maybe it could last. If even Lady Mills tolerated the match...  
  
And then something happened that nobody had foreseen.  
  
"There's something I have to tell you," Emma said one night, her naked back erupting in goosebumps under Regina's fingernails. It was meant to sound casual, Regina could tell because Emma's voice was too high.  
  
"Sometimes I'm terrified of your deep voice," the blonde had confided, months prior, when they had still been in the exploration progress, the getting to know the partner's knacks and likes in a relationship. "For me it is always: the deeper the tone, the more serious is a matter; but you _joke_ in your smokiest voice."  
  
"Who said I was joking," Regina had replied as throaty as she could muster, then pressed a kiss to Emma's pout. "You have to admit though, that you secretly love it."  
  
"I secretly love you," Emma had mumbled, or that was what Regina had understood anyway, the words so quiet compared to her thundering heart beat.  
  
Now, she had no trouble hearing what Emma was saying. There had been a talent scout at the performance last week. Nothing was signed yet but the offer stood.  
  
"It's not a bad contract, Regina. Much better than any inexperienced dancer could hope."  
  
Regina fought to smile in response. Emma would have a professional education. Small roles in minor plays at first, but there was room for promotion, bigger parts, maybe even the Swan one day. This was what Emma had been working for since she was a little girl. This was _it_.  
  
_It_ was in Pennsylvania, and Regina's smile slipped just when Emma was studying her reaction. A crease formed on the pale skin of Emma's brow, a shadow spreading over her shining eyes.  
  
"I know it's far away, but we can make it work," she murmured, hand reaching for Regina's cheek. For the first time ever, Regina moved away.  
  
"Can we?"  
  
Emma's eyes were flashing when she pulled on her clothes and left despite the late hour. Regina didn't hold her back.  
  
"She shouldn't have to compromise herself for your sake," Ruby said when the fight had gone on for a week, as if Regina didn't know. She hadn't approached Ruby to complain about Emma, she had just... Wanted to talk. About the acid feeling in her stomach when she caught a glimpse of Emma, practicing harder than ever. About the convulsions that came over her late at night, taking her breath away until she was certain she would faint but she never did.  
  
About the razor blade she had purloined from her father, polished metal that seemed to call out to her, promising a different pain than the colourless innate one.  
  
She hadn't used it. Yet.  
  
In retrospect, she should have swallowed her pride and approached Emma earlier. Made the most of what little time they had still left. In retrospect, she should have apologized, if not immediately, then at least the day after, before the inhibition threshold became too high. In retrospect, she should have done a lot differently. As it was, she held back until Emma's last day in California.  
  
The blonde gave a party, plain and humble as was her manner, but a definite success when the smiling faces Regina spied through the windows were any indication. She had to wait a long time until Emma was finally alone, wandering through the rooms in dreamy-eyed reminiscence.  
  
Her posture went rigid when Regina softly called her name, her arms freezing mid-motion as she had stretched up to pluck down one end of a garland.  
  
"Regina," she breathed with a relief that washed over Regina like a warm embrace.  
  
"Emma," she repeated, sobbing now, damning herself and her stupid pride for not doing this earlier. "Emma."  
  
And then Emma turned on her toe, ever graceful and poised, and her cheeks were shining with tears as she extended her arms towards Regina.  
  
"Go away," she whispered even as her fingers greedily encircled Regina's wrists, trapping her close, so close, to her body. "Go away, you little..."  
  
At which point Regina cut her off with a kiss.  
  
There are things people don't unlearn. Riding a bycicle, knitting, the way to the bathroom of one's childhood home, the like. Loving Emma was one of them, Regina discovered this night at the dance school, and she wouldn't doubt it again.  
  
They did last, after all.


End file.
